“Thank you so much for coming. Guys, this is Kelly Tanaka. This is Szabo, our creative director, and Jacko, and Dan. They work on the Honda account.”
As I looked around, I got the creepiest feeling that everyone was checking me out in a very obvious way. Was it my clothes? I was dressed in my casual producer garb of dark jeans and a sweater, while everyone here seemed to be dressed in an artistic way. Why wear one shirt, when you could wear three?
Ed motioned for me to sit at the end of the table. I was relieved because that meant nobody could look at my body anymore, but now they seemed to be staring at my face. I discreetly checked for food bits from lunch, but found nothing.
Szabo began talking. “You see, Kelly, the ongoing concept for this campaign is ‘Expect the Unexpected.’ We want people to know that the Honda Accord may look like a regular sedan, but it has more performance and features than other cars in its class. Every spot we’ve done has an element of surprise in it.
“For the commercial I’m proposing—” He motioned to a board with a series of little illustrations. “You see a tough hockey player, coming in with the puck, hitting people, getting by the last defenceman, and scoring a highlight reel goal. The other players come in to congratulate him, his helmet comes off, and it’s a beautiful woman! She turns and says, “Expect the Unexpected.”
Seemed good to me, but there was a technical flaw. I assumed that’s why I was in the room, to pick these things up.
“Actually, you can’t hit people if you already have the puck.”
“No?” asked Jacko.
“No, you can only hit people who have the puck. But that could be even better. The woman could come in and deliver a crashing hit, take the puck off the other player, and then go in and do the rest of the stuff.”
“Yesssss.” Szabo closed his eyes and seemed to be imagining this new scenario.
Dan spoke up. “You see, Kelly, we actually had this concept a few months ago, but we could never find the right player. You need someone who can do all this in one shot, so you know that the same player that did all the hockey stuff is also a babe. Most of the talent we looked at was a little too, uh, butch.”
They weren’t looking in the right places. I knew people who were babes and good players. I could totally help them there.
Szabo continued, “Yeah, the rest of the players are all guys, you just see them peripherally, but it gives you the impression that everyone’s a guy. So you need a player who can believably play with guys and hit and score on cue. And Ed tells us you can do this.”
“Me?” Was he kidding?
“Yeah, have you ever played with guys?”
“More than half my hockey career, actually.”
Ed broke in, “It’s your fine features and your feminine face that are key, Kelly. We could dub your voice, but you actually have a husky, sexy voice that is just right.”
“My face? My voice?” I felt like someone was going to pop out of the closet and yell, “Punk’d!” at any moment.
“And she’s half-Japanese,” Dan muttered. “They’re gonna love that.”
“So, could you do all of this?” Ed asked.
Well, actually I could. As long as the goalie promised not to try too hard to stop my shot. I could definitely do the hitting and deking.
“Sure,” I replied.
“Great! We’ll need to shoot a test of you in makeup to show the client. This weekend, if you’re free. It’s not a done deal, Kelly. We need the client to sign off first. But they liked it when we originally presented, and it would be perfect for insertion in sports programming. Honda’s a sponsor of the NHL, you know.”
Ed started barking commands and getting everyone going on different tasks. I still had my doubts, but I knew that with the right makeup, anyone could be a babe.
32
Alone Again, Naturally
That Honda commercial actually happened. Whenever I saw it, I remembered the shoot, which had been pretty brutal. The key was that everything had to be done in one shot, so each take I had to rush up the ice, hit a guy into the boards, take the puck, deke a defenceman, blast the puck top shelf, and celebrate the goal. The hardest part was the end: losing my helmet, flipping my hair, turning to the camera, and saying, “Expect the Unexpected!” Did I mention that this was all in one take?
I had spent several weeks practicing the sequence at open ice sessions. When I did the shoot, they put a ton of makeup on me, and since I was sweating it had to be touched up constantly. Anyway, at the end everyone was really happy with the result. Thanks to the makeup, I looked as pretty as Ed had said I would. I was getting recognized on the street once in a while, which was totally bizarre. I even had a Facebook fan page that some idiot had set up because he had a crush on me. April told me about it when she became a fan.
The best part of the commercial was the money I got—and continued to get—as the campaign ran. Combined with my new salary as temporary producer, I had completely paid off my student debts. I took my parents out to dinner to celebrate this and to thank them for everything they had done to help.
“Isn’t this nice? The three of us having dinner together.” My mother looked happily around Yohachi, our favourite Japanese restaurant. One of our few family nods to Japanese culture was eating out. “We should have invited Phil to come with us.”
I shut my eyes briefly, and then faced the music. “Actually, I’m not seeing Phil anymore.”
“Oh no. But the two of you were getting along so well. What happened?” My mother loved Phil, probably more than I did.
“We broke up.” I realized that this wasn’t a real explanation, but the truth was too complicated.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” My mom looked extremely sad. “So, I guess you’re seeing that other boy then—the hockey player?”
“No, I’m not seeing him either. And before you start guessing the butcher, the baker, or the candlestick maker—I’m not seeing anyone.”
“There’s no need to be snippy,” my mom said in a very snippy tone. “A lovely young woman like you should be dating. You know, I met this nice young man at an art opening the other day….”
“Please, Mom, no fix-ups.” If a guy was under forty and breathing, my mom would think he was a potential date for me.
She shook her head. “But Kelly, if you can’t find—”
“Oh good,” my dad interrupted. “Here’s the food.” He hated discussions like this even more than I did. The waitress distributed our drinks and set out a sashimi appetizer plate. Thankfully, all dating discussion ceased.
“Here’s to Kelly,” my dad said, holding up his beer.
My mom nodded and drank her wine. “Yes, to Kelly. Congratulations. We recorded the hockey game last Saturday so that we could see your commercial.”
“Oh man, wasn’t it a great game?” I said. The Canucks had come back from a three-goal deficit to win in overtime.
My parents both looked down at the tablecloth.
“Well,” my mom hedged. “You know we’re not big hockey fans.”
“Unless you’re playing,” my dad added.
“We fast-forwarded through the game to see the commercials. Anyway, you looked wonderful. And you’re such a good player.” My mom was beaming.
I laughed. Only my parents would do something like that. “Yeah, they had to specially find guys that weren’t too big, so it looks realistic. But it was fun.”
“All our friends have seen it and loved it too. Will you be doing more commercials?” My mom sounded hopeful. Clearly, breaking up with Phil had shattered one of her dreams, and now she was hoping I could redeem myself with a glamourous career.
“It seems pretty unlikely. There’s not a lot of call for female hockey players.”
“Now, Molly, we’re here to celebrate Kelly’s accomplishments in paying off her student loans already. Most kids take years. And you can start saving now. If you want to get into the real estate market in Vancouver, it’s going to take a lot of money.”
&
nbsp; “It’s very hard for a single woman to buy a place,” my mom said.
My dad had important news. “We wanted to tell you, we’ve settled on our travel dates for next year. We’re leaving on December 29th. So we’ll get to ring in the New Year on the road. We’re travelling through South East Asia for three months and then to Hokkaido in the spring so your mother can start her artist’s residency. Later we’re going to Kyoto as well.”
“It’s the epicentre of Japanese pottery,” my mom interjected.
My dad finished their itinerary. “After our Japan stay, we’ll travel to Australia and New Zealand.”
“Wow, that all sounds incredible.” I felt a little adrift. No matter how much I liked my independence, it was nice to have a safety net. “I’m really going to miss you.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll be able to stay in touch,” my mom assured me. “We can e-mail you and call you.”
“And we’ll get to celebrate Christmas together before we go. Roger is coming home as well. One last family holiday.”
Still, I couldn’t shake this feeling of loneliness. I had cut Phil and Jimmy out of my life, and now my family was leaving as well. “I love you guys,” I declared.
“We love you too, Kelly.” My dad wrapped his arm around me. My mom reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “You’re doing well at work, and you’re volunteering as well. You’ve grown into an adult that any parent would be proud of.”
“Kelly’s always been an independent spirit,” my mom declared. “Right from the start, she always wanted to do things herself.”
Alone. That was what I’d always wanted to be, and now I was.
* * *
James
* * *
We were on a road trip in Canada. First Montreal and then Ottawa. The night before the Ottawa game, I was relaxing in my room with Wheels. The guy had made the transition from Sweden to the United States seamlessly—both in his game and in his busy personal life. We were roommates on the road. He was pretty much my polar opposite. He never worried about a thing and liked to party it up, while I stressed and wanted to get to bed early. But I envied his relaxed ways, and we got along good.
As usual, we were fighting over the remote.
“Fuck, Freeze, you’re always watching hockey. Let’s see what else is on. I like Entourage. I think it’s on tonight.”
“We should be watching hockey. It’s our job.”
“Ja, we already watched game video today. We practiced hockey. I think we could use a fucking break. If something big happens, we can watch highlights later. Give me the remote!” He lunged for it, but I yanked it out of reach.
“One more period of the Sens game and then maybe,” I offered.
Wheels cursed and then settled down on his bed. It was only the commercials anyway, and I was going to flip channels when something caught my eye. The hockey player on the television skated and deked in a very familiar way.
Kelly’s face filled the whole screen and she was absolutely beautiful. She was smiling and it was almost like we were looking at each other. Wham, I felt winded. Seeing her so suddenly was like a blow.
“Expect the Unexpected,” her sexy voice purred. No fucking kidding.
Wheels snorted. “Wow, she’s pretty hot. Do you think she actually did all that hockey stuff?”
I sighed. “Yeah, she did. That’s my ex-girlfriend.” I tossed him the remote. “I think I’ll go to sleep now. Keep the volume down, okay?” I started hunting for my earplugs before he could ask me any questions.
Too late. He muted the TV and turned to me. “Really? Your ex is a model and a hockey player?”
“No, she’s not a model.” As far as I knew, she was a receptionist. But the truth was that I had no idea what she was doing now—she could be a model. She never updated her Facebook profile, and we didn’t have any friends in common. The only thing I knew for sure was that she was with Davidson. Thinking about him touching her, holding her, and talking with her was painful too.
“This is good, Freeze. I tell you stuff, but you never give me anything personal. I told you you’re too young for a serious girlfriend, but if you had to—it should be someone fun like her.”
“That’s ridiculous. How can you tell Kelly is fun from seeing her for thirty seconds?”
“I know women. She’s running guys into the boards and coming out laughing. I’d bet twenty bucks that’s she fun.”
I sighed. She was fun. I never knew what she was going to do next. I liked to make her laugh, which I sometimes did by accident. She made me feel younger, which was weird because she was older. And she was into hockey enough that she never made me feel like a freak. I nodded. “I’m not taking your bet, but yes, she is.”
“See? I am always right. So, does this Kelly have a phone number?”
“She’d never date you.” He was kidding around. He was a ladies man, but there was a bro code.
“I already know her standards are not that high,” he said, laughing. “Most guys choose the same kind of girl every time, but your girlfriends are, like, opposite. I can’t believe you broke up with her to go out with Astrid.”
Yeah, anyone would assume I broke up with her—NHL boyfriends were a big score for normal girls. But the truth was too humiliating to confess. “What’s wrong with Astrid?”
He snorted. “Norwegians.”
Oh, this was some Swedish prejudice thing. “She’s not Norwegian now, she’s American. And she’s beautiful.”
“I never said she wasn’t pretty. Not as attractive as Swedish women though. Ja, she’s Norwegian all right, she’s always offending someone. And it’s no surprise that she sells alcohol, they’re always getting drunk.” He was on a roll now, and he started talking in his fast, excited way. “She needs to relax even more than you. I can picture her with a stopwatch during sex. Two minutes of sucking your dick, then time to move on to penetration—five minutes and then it must be done. Ha, am I right? You need someone more fun than you—not less. You’re already too tense.”
“So tense I’m going to sleep now. Night.”
I stuck in the earplugs and put the pillow over my head. When I closed my eyes all I could see was Kelly’s face—her smile lit up the whole screen. I had been running this film in my mind for months of all the great times we’d had together. Right up until the last time I’d seen her. Our last night together had been incredible, and we were linked in every way. And now it was like that mental video was updated—Kelly today was as beautiful as ever.
Seeing her so unexpectedly made me feel vulnerable. I had worked hard to get over her, and I was almost angry that she had invaded my safe space. I tried to focus on Astrid and how perfect my life was now—just like I’d always planned.
But that yearning remained. What would it be like if I saw her again? I had already memorized the dates of our games in Vancouver: December 20 and February 7. If I asked to be interviewed by the radio station, it would give me the perfect excuse to go there and see Kelly. But she probably wasn’t even working there anymore. She was doing more exciting things now. She had found a way to combine work with hockey. I always knew she underestimated herself. She could do anything. And if she had come to Chicago with me, she would have seen that on an even bigger scale.
Besides, who was I kidding? If she saw me again, she wouldn’t be smiling like on television. Her face would be blank and cold now—she saved her sweetness for him. I wanted to remember her the way she was before—when she loved me. It was painful to realize how much I still wanted her in my life and how utterly unattainable she was.
33
A Star Is Born
As time passed, I felt more comfortable and confident—both at work and while coaching. I liked my crazy routine. I went to bed early and was into work by 4:30am, so my lack of a social life wasn’t that noticeable. The Organ Donors continued to improve. We were never going to lead the league, but we continued to take pride in every new accomplishment: our first shutout, a power play goal, and our sma
llest player, Kimmy, scoring her first goal.
One November day at work, we all had to be on our best behaviour because the big brass from Toronto were coming for status meetings, and they would also tour the place.
C2C Sports was part of a national media conglomerate, with multiple radio and television stations. Cheryl told me that all employees could apply for company jobs anywhere in Canada—as long as they were qualified. As much as I loved Vancouver, I was beginning to consider moving. If I went to Calgary, I could hang out with Deirdre. She had assured me I would be able to make her women’s hockey team, which would be awesome. Or in Toronto, there were McGill friends and a women’s pro hockey team. I had chosen to forge my own life, and work was going better than I could have ever dreamed. When Ruby came back in the new year, it would be a different story, but who knew what other opportunities might come up.
The morning of the big corporate inspection, our show was going perfectly. Luckily, the Canucks had won the previous night so there was a lot to talk about, and the guys were being consummate pros. Not one sexist remark had been heard, which made me realize that they did know right from wrong.
The executives filed into the control room, making things rather crowded. Then the network president started staring at me. Was I screwing up in some spectacular way? He motioned for me to take off the headphones and asked, “Aren’t you the girl in the car commercial?”
“Yes, that’s me.” I smiled, but I didn’t look half as good as I did with all the makeup and special lighting.
“And you play hockey?”
“I used to play collegiate at McGill. We won the C.I.S. championships.” We were the reigning champs until March, so I could still brag.
Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Three Page 19
